Charleston Merman
We were vacationing in the state of
palm trees and seashore in September's
mild loveliness.
Me, a sexagenarian widow,
hobbled by arthritis in my knees.
As my family enjoyed the surf,
I sat contented on a creaking
wooden pier,
taking in the salted breeze tossing
my gray hair.
I heard the seawater beneath me
ripple, then a splash,
and a masculine, "Hello,"
there in the mossy brine was he.
His long brunette hair flecked with
sun kissed gold,
it was entwined with tiny conch shells.
His build of brawn and burnished skin,
eyes of an amber hue.
Handsome in oceanic resplendence-
I then realized he was a merman!
As his iridescent lower body of sapphire
scales and magnificent fins swirled in
the foaming waters,
I thought what would such a youthful
merman want with an elderly woman
like me,
when there were younger women
bringing their charms to the sea?
He spoke again, and I was mesmerized,
"You were once a maiden,
a strong swimmer of the waves,"
he mysteriously smiled,
"King Poseidon doesn't forget his
people of the deep,
although you are aged and infirm,
your soul is of the aqueous realm,
and know this message I give to
you today,
while you sleep neath the late summer
moonlight tonight,
we merpeople love you for your
caring of our vast oceans and
their life."
He reached out his strong hand
momentarily,
and placed a perfect pink pearl
into my outstretched hand.
His eyes so captivating that I
never wanted to stop gazing
into them.
As he softly bid me a farewell,
his fins slapped the waters,
as waiting dolphins leapt in happy unison,
and he disappeared beyond the edge
of the pier.
Charleston Merman,
I'll never forget you,
a sweet nautical memory,
as the perfect pink pearl is displayed on
white velvet on my nightstand. ~
Copyright ©
Regina Elliott
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